Pasi Jääskeläinen - Secret Passages in a Hillside Town

Endorphins (endogenous morphine, or morphine that originates within the body) are peptides that present as opioids in the brain, pituitary and other parts of the nervous system. Endorphins bind to opioid receptors, and have a variety of effects including the reduction of pain. Adrenaline, or epinephrine, on the other hand, is a hormone secreted by the adrenal gland in times of stress. Adrenaline increases physical performance and feelings of well-being. It can accelerate heart function, expand the bronchial tubes and increase energy by altering the metabolism of sugar. It is clear that a middle-aged man who experiences endocrine and adrenaline cravings and intoxication can be susceptible to overestimating his abilities, and thus lose his sense of reality and rationality and make fatefully poor decisions.

Walking past the observation tower Olli sees his reflection in the window and it amuses him. He looks like a character from an old movie. He thinks he understands now what he was reading about the deep cinematic self. Naturally he’s still deeply worried, but at the same time part of him, surely his deep cinematic self, would seem to be feeling a sort of aesthetic pleasure that something has happened to break the ordinary routine of his life.

Intoxicated by this feeling of profound meaningfulness and fatalism, and perhaps also by his own endorphins, he descends the Harju Steps into Mäki-Matti. Dramatic music plays in his head. He senses his surroundings with uncharacteristic clarity.

As soon as Olli got home his anxiety returned. His stomach started to hurt. He felt faint. He crawled onto the sofa and whimpered like a sick dog.

It was slow continuum attachment again, getting him in its clutches:

Slow continuum attachment affects a person like gravity. It shoves a person’s face into the dust of the everyday, the ashes of dreams. It persuades us to be content with our fate like a humble beast of burden and put aside the possibilities that every moment of life offers. The cinematic way of life is liberation from the slow continuum. Instead of unavoidable obligations, a person can learn to see all possibilities, even impossible ones, and live them out in a cinematic aesthetic spirit. All that’s necessary is to dare to pick the pears hanging from the branches of life’s tree and take a bite. Of course, that demands a lot—your whole life, in fact—but in the end it’s nothing more than a choice.

Olli pressed his trembling hands against his face and was afraid he would be squashed under the weight of the thoughts in his head, and lose himself in their seeping darkness.

When dusk fell he had recovered enough to go upstairs and read his new instructions on Facebook.

THE OUTDOOR SEATING at the kiosk in the old church park was chosen as the stage for the next meeting.

The first week of August was restless and crowded in Jyväskylä. The mass event known as the Neste Oil Rally was happening. It attracted car-racing fans from around the world, and for a few days the city was full of people, cars and all sorts of vendors. During rally week Olli usually avoided the downtown area and took a taxi to and from work. He couldn’t bear the crowds of drunken bar-goers who did bring money into the city but also pissed in the streets, disturbed the peace, broke bottles, littered and clogged traffic.

He didn’t hear much talk about the races at the publishing office, although Maiju, in particular, secretly followed them with enthusiastic interest and was thrilled at the success of the Finnish drivers.

The trance-like passion that rally cars evoked in people had always baffled Olli. Even when they showed American Graffiti at the film club, it didn’t give him an urge to buy a car of his own or lessen his scepticism about the pleasures of driving.

This year Olli had been planning to stay completely away from the central city for the duration of the races, but when his family was kidnapped he had to compromise many of his principles. So there he was, following the Facebook instructions and heading to the park, where he had orders to wait for Greta.

At your last meeting you gave her hope. Continue in the same manner. Walk with her through town hand in hand. Kiss her lightly so that you leave her dreaming, but without being too blatant. You have to leave her in suspense about your next meeting.

Olli’s blood pressure was probably dangerously high, so he didn’t measure it. He had eaten and slept poorly. His stomach was in knots. His back ached. His thoughts were muddled. He dressed his suffering body in the clothes of a casually stylish gentleman, examined the result in the mirror, took a taxi to the park, and sat at an empty table on the kiosk terrace.

As he had expected, people milled around him in a noisy mob. He stared at the table top and tried to shut the stress out of his mind. He was hot in his jacket but he couldn’t bring himself to take it off. Time passed. He waited. People left. Other people took their places. Then they too left. Olli continued to sit. Someone sang a song in drunken German. The air was filled with the smell of beer and cigarettes. Taxis were lined up at the kerb like big, sleepy dogs. Now and then one of them awoke and crept away.

Olli drank three cups of coffee and a bottle of yellow Jaffa soda. The people at the next table were talking about the races the way soldiers in a movie talk about the war. Olli felt like punching them.

He started thinking about remodelling. There was a lot that needed to be fixed: the sloping floors, the ceiling panels in the bedroom, the slanting walls, the wallpaper. He made mental calculations of the labour, materials and expenses. His brow furrowed.

Then he remembered his wife and son, kidnapped and taken on a forced holiday by the Blomrooses, and he sank into a gloom.

When a ripple of wind brushed against his face, gently probing it, sounds began to enter his ears. He looked around and noticed that the colours had brightened. It was as if someone had opened a hatch inside him.

It was hard not to worry about his kidnapped family, even if it was a beautiful summer day. But even the worst problems couldn’t touch the creature that he was beneath his titles, tastes, obligations, responsibilities and memories. It smiled at him, carefree as a child.

It liked this spot.

The Magic City Guide describes the old church park thus:

This one-block park in central Jyväskylä contains a Gothic-style church built in 1880, a kiosk building, an old electrical switching station and a variety of monuments. The kiosk, built in 1954, radiates a particularly dense concentration of M-particles, which enrich the life feeling of people in its vicinity. The park is also a popular meeting place for lovers.

The scent of floral perfume awakens Olli from his thoughts. Someone is sitting beside him.

He hesitates a moment, then looks.

Greta Kara is drinking pink lemonade through a straw and smiling mischievously.

“If it isn’t Mr Suominen,” she says. “Taking some time out from the workday to enjoy the international ambience of rally week, I presume? I was walking by and saw you and called your name, but you didn’t respond, although half the people in the park waved back at me. I’ve been sitting next to you for fifteen minutes waiting for you to notice me. Silly thing. A couple of minutes longer and I would have lit your trousers on fire. Now, don’t you dare get angry with me, you little devil. You look as if you could bite my nose off.”

Olli stifles a smile, looks at Greta blankly, and hears himself repeating a Burt Lancaster line from Sweet Smell of Success : “Bite you? I’d hate to take a bite outta you. You’re a cookie full of arsenic.”

For a moment Greta looks as if he’s slapped her in the face. Then she recognizes the quote.